


On The Edge Of Paradise

by thelilacfield



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Idiots in Love, Pegging, Shameless Smut, Top Wanda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 03:10:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17593493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelilacfield/pseuds/thelilacfield
Summary: “I just...” She sighs, pushes his laptop aside, and turns him around to slide him back against the counter.“I miss what it was like before. And it’s not that I miss barely getting to see you and not even being able to talk most nights. I just miss...being spontaneous. I miss when we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. I miss dragging you behind some bushes and ripping your clothes off.”“Wanda,” he hisses, eyes darting as if someone is going to overhear them. “What...what else do you miss?”“I miss when we...spiced it up,” she says softly





	On The Edge Of Paradise

**A/N:** Back by insistent demand, a sequel to [_Make It Last, Take It Slow_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15632034). I don't think you need to have read that to read this, but hey I always appreciate a few more reads on my PWPs. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

"Wanda...wait." She glances up, finding Vision gazing up at her, fear in his eyes again, and rolls gently off him. Back to the other side of the bed, not touching him, letting him breathe, everything he's asked her to do as they've been slowly rebuilding their relationship. Listening to his breathing, the way every breath catches in his chest, until she feels the brush of his fingers against hers and rolls onto her side to look at him.

"Are you okay?" she asks softly, and he closes his eyes, ducking his head into his chest.

"I'm so-"

"Don't apologise, Vizh, don't ever apologise for how you feel," she says, and reaches cautiously across the gap between them to trace her fingertips down the plate of vibranium that stretches down his face, until he opens his eyes to gaze into hers. "We don't have to do anything, okay?"

"I  _want_ to," he says, and she moves closer, tangling their legs together. "I just...I don't know. I don't know why I can't."

"It's okay," she soothes him, and stretches forward to press a soft, sweet kiss to his lips. "We can take this slowly. Maybe we jumped into it too fast...before. You know I'm not going anywhere."

"But I..." He looks at her again, and her heart splinters seeing a sheen of tears in his eyes, and she wants to hold him. But she's scared of frightening him, making him jerk away, undoing all the careful progress they've made with one too-fast movement. "What if...we try and...you don't want me the same as you used to? I'm  _different_  now."

"You only look a little bit different," she promises, her gaze drifting slightly downwards to where she knows there's more vibranium panelling under his clothes, reinforced to protect him, to make sure he'll be safer out in the world. "Vizh, I still want you. You're exactly the same here," she brushes her fingers gently over his forehead, the faint glow of the stone, "and here." She places her hand gently over his chest, his heartbeat, and smiles. "You're still the man I fell in love with."

He gazes at her for a moment, then gently pulls her hand to his lips and presses a kiss to her fingertips. "I love you," he breathes, and the words sing through her, lighting her up from the inside out, spoken so softly and sweetly. When they're safe, curled up together in a bed in the completely secure compound, stars shining outside the window, quietly content.

"I love you too," she whispers, and thrills silently when he leans in to kiss her, lingers slightly, his hand curling gently around the curve of her waist before he pulls away.

"I'm sorry that I can't-"

"Please stop apologising," she says softly, and he ducks his head bashfully, a blush glowing beneath his skin, and nods. She sighs softly, linking their fingers together, and says, "I have an idea." He gives her a curious look, and she gently reaches for the hem of his shirt. "Can I?"

"But...the scar-"

"Does absolutely nothing to make you look less handsome to me," she says, and he flushes, giving her a tiny smile and a nod. She pulls his shirt over his head, folding it neatly before she sets it on the nightstand. Glances at him, the ragged scar across his chest from the blade that could've killed him, the scar Shuri couldn't fix no matter how hard she tried, and curls up to him. "We sleep like this," she says gently. "Nothing else. We just sleep."

"Okay," he says, and she smiles, kissing his cheek and curling up to him, sliding her cold feet against the backs of his legs to steal some of the warmth from his skin. "Why?"

"To remind you that you've always been insanely attractive to me," she says, and watches the shine creep into his cheeks, the shy little smile at the corners of his mouth. "And a little more vibranium and a scar is never going to change that."

She tries to wait until he falls asleep to let herself go too. Watching his eyes slowly close, feeling his breathing steady and deepen and slow. Admiring him, the sheen of the dark vibranium criss-crossing his skin, and running her fingertips so gently over the edge of his scar. Lifting herself to press a gentle kiss to the skin before she can second-guess herself, smiling when he mumbles something that sounds like her name in his sleep. Laying her head on his chest, listening to the reassuring rhythm of his heart, and slowly drifting into sleep.

The sky is still grey with the coming dawn when she jerks awake, Vision jerking in his sleep beneath her, peaceful expression twisted up with panic, and she moves away from him before he bolts upright, breathing rough and panicked. He looks at her and his eyes are wild, not quite seeing her, his voice still thick with sleep but so scared as he whispers, "He was there, he was...he grabbed me, and it...it  _hurts_ , it..."

"He's gone, Vizh," she says softly, and he's looking at her rather than through her, his eyes full of fear. "We killed him. He can't ever touch you again, I promise. I wouldn't let him. I'd burn the world down before I let anyone hurt you again."

"I need...I...I can't breathe," he manages to force out, and she stands up, pressing his shirt into his violently shaking hands, opening the doors onto their balcony, clinging to the side of the compound. The perfect place to stand in the cool air of the quiet pre-dawn time, waiting for Vision to join her, and watch him clutching at the railing, to rub gentle circles into his back while he breathes.

"Roof?" she asks gently, and he nods, and she takes his hand and they're briefly enveloped in red, floating up onto the section of roof where she deactivated all the cameras, ignoring the complaints that it was a security risk. She can defend herself, and Vision, and he needs a space to relax, to look up at the sky and be able to breathe.

She stands a little away from him, not sure what kind of mood he's in, what kind of nightmare it was, but he looks up at her with wide, pleading eyes, holding out a hand. "Hold me?" he asks, his voice so small, and she nods immediately, sitting down next to him and letting him bury his face in the crook of her neck, wrapping him up tight in her arms. Wishing she could somehow go back and protect him from Thanos before it all happened, before he kept waking up in the night whimpering, on the verge of tears.

Slowly, so agonisingly slowly, his breathing steadies, and he lifts his head from her shoulder, gazing at her with so much open adoration in his eyes that her breath catches. "It was different tonight," he says softly. "It wasn't me. It...it was you. He hurt you. And I...I couldn't help. I just stood there. I didn't even get to...to tell you how much I love you."

"It didn't happen," she soothes him, lacing their fingers together. "Everything's okay now. We made it, Vizh. We get to be in love now."

"I just...I need you to know," he says, his hand slowly curling around her waist, pulling her into his lap, their bodies closer than they've been since the last time they made love before Wakanda. "I am so ridiculously, deeply in love with you. I...I lost you once. I can't do that again."

"You don't have to," she whispers, feeling a sudden shiver of desire skitter down her spine when he pulls her closer, their hips pressing together. Enough for her to feel that he's getting hard against her, and she has to force herself to keep her eyes on his, on the desperation in his gaze. "Vizh-"

"I love you," he whispers, kissing her hand, moving her fingers slowly downwards, trailing down the soft fabric of his shirt. "I love you so much." He kisses her, desperate, so hard it makes her ache, and slides her hand beneath the waistband of his pyjamas. It takes a hasty repositioning, her straddling his thigh, but she slowly curls her fingers around his erection, and he shivers, breathing out her name against her lips.

Softly breaking the kiss, gazing into his desire-dark eyes, she cups her free hand to his cheek, her thumb brushing gently over the corner of his mouth. "I love you," she whispers, and he nods, eyes fluttering closed, his breathing ragged as she starts to move her hips against his thigh, chasing the heat pooling in her belly. Kissing him, waiting for the moment when it all becomes too much for him and he has to stop. But the moment doesn't come, he only holds her closer, kisses her more passionately, moans against her mouth.

" _Wanda_ ," he breathes, and the sound of it sings through her, the familiar way he whispers her name when he's close, the memories of all those times sneaking around rushing back to her, and she smiles, presses their foreheads together and whispers his name in return, grinding harder and faster against him, twisting her hand and turning his breathing raspy, irregular,  _eager_. And she has to pull back, to look at him, his pupils huge with want, run her thumb gently over his lower lip and groan when he kisses softly at her fingers, gazing into her eyes.

"Are you okay?" she asks softly, and he nods. "Vizh, you know the rule. Tell me out loud how you feel."

"I'm fine," he says, never letting his gaze stray from hers, his hands curled around her waist gripping her a little tighter. "I just...want to look at you."

"I'm right here," she breathes, and he shudders, groans her name, his hips jerking up into her hand. "Vizh, do you...do you want to stop?"

"No," he says, almost instantly, and slides a hand to the small of her back, guiding her to grind harder into him, a lightness in his eyes when she groans his name and grips his shoulder. "I...I didn't realise how much I missed  _this_."

"I missed this too," she says, and clutches at him, her hand stilling on his erection, her focus moving to chasing her own release. " _Vizh_."

"You're so beautiful," he breathes, words just for her, his eyes bright in the pale light, and she buries her face in the crook of his neck and moans his name into the warmth of his skin as she comes, clutching at him. Kissing at his neck as she comes down, slowly starting to stroke him again, close enough to hear every hitch in his breath, feeling his fingers digging into her back. " _Kiss me_."

She lifts her head to press her lips to his, swallowing the breathy way he says her name, tracing her tongue along his bottom lip before his mouth opens beneath hers, and she can feel the irregular rise and fall of his chest they're so close, every jerk of his hips, and the moment he holds her impossibly close and breathes her name as he comes. And she stays holding him, kissing him, until he breaks gently away and gives her a tremulous smile, eyes bright. "I-"

"Love you so much," she says, and he  _beams_ , and she can't help smiling back, held in the arms of the man she loves more than anything. "Are you alright?"

"Of course I am," he says softly, and she smiles at him. Watches his face change, his eyes dart, and he gently slides her out of his lap, onto the cool of the concrete. "I'll be right back, darling."

She smiles at the nickname, one she hasn't heard enough since they came back to the compound, and watches him phase down through the roof, back into the compound. Stretching out like a cat on the roof, rearranging her thoroughly crumpled shirt and pulling the elastic out of the braid she slept it, unravelling her hair slowly as the golden stain of the sun starts to peer over the horizon. Waiting for Vision to return, changed into a different pair of pyjamas, and smiling at her. "Did you just go to change?" she asks. "I can come do that with you too. It's not as if we've never seen each other naked, babe."

"Wanda," he says, and it's that tone of voice that means something serious, and it sends a chill down her spine. The last time she heard that voice, he...it was the moment that will haunt her nightmares forever, the moment she had to destroy the only man she has ever or will ever love. But he holds out a hand, laces their fingers together, and a choked sound like a sob leaves her lips when he arranges himself on one knee in front of her. "I love you. I know that...if I had to live in a world without you, it...it would never be the same. Losing you once almost destroyed me, and I will spend the rest of my life fighting to keep you safe. Months ago, I asked you to change your life and stay with me. I still want that. I still want to be with you." His other hand appears from behind his back with a velvety box cradled in his palm, clicked open to reveal a simple silver band. "Wanda, will you-"

"Yes," she gasps out, and tackles him onto his back, kissing him, tears spilling over and creeping down her cheeks, squeezing his hand so tightly it actually hurts her fingers.

"-marry me?" he asks breathlessly when she pulls away, and blushes when she giggles. "I...you didn't let me finish."

"Because I knew what you were gonna ask, and I've known my answer for a year," she says, and he smiles incredulously up at her. "Ring please, babe."

"God, I love you," he says softly, and she smiles, extending her hand for him to slide the ring carefully onto her third finger.

"I love you too," she says, and he grins, kissing her. "How do you feel about letting me cook a little celebratory breakfast,  _fiancé_?"

"I'd like that," he says sweetly, and she kisses him again.

* * *

Manoeuvring the last box into a corner and letting the red fade away from her fingers, Wanda watches Vision staring critically at the angle of a painting on the wall for a long moment, an affectionate smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "It looks fine like that, babe," she says, and he steps back and huffs in frustration.

"Maybe a different frame," he says, tilting his head in consideration. "I don't think that wood looks right with the paint colour. But it goes so well with the couch cushions...maybe a repaint?"

"Honey, let's live here for longer than two hours before we decide to start changing things," she says, and he gives her a guilty look. "Get used to the place, then you can start buying buckets of paint to make feature walls."

"You pretend not to pay attention when we watch interior design shows, but I knew you did," he says, and she smiles, pulling him away from the offending painting to kiss him, arm draped languidly around his neck.

"Happy moving day to us," she says softly when they break apart, and he grins, eyes shining. "Do you still like it as much as you did the first time we saw it?"

"You're still here, of course I still like it," he says, and she smiles even brighter, kissing him again, smiling against his mouth as he twines their fingers together and runs his thumb over the band of engagement ring.

"Is it everything you dreamed of when you asked me to run away with you?" she asks, and he nods, smiling into her eyes. "Really? Even with all the boxes everywhere?"

"We'll clear them away," he says, kissing her hands, looking so  _happy_  that her heart soars. He's so different from the man she got back after Thanos, with so little hope for the future. "There's that whole spare room we can use. We won't need it for anything else...for a while."

Wondering why he paused for so long, a faraway look in his eyes, she drops another kiss on his lips and says, "Let's get them shoved in there before dinner. Which box did you pack all the cooking stuff in?"

"They're all clearly labelled," he says, and she just shakes her head and spins red around the first box, opening the door to the spare room and beginning a new stack. "No, start with the books. They're the heaviest things."

"So now you're giving the orders around here?" she teases, giving him a hot glance and watching the motion of his throat as he swallows thickly. "I thought that was my job. You've certainly never seemed to mind."

"I...um, I think I left the rugs for the bedroom outside," he says, and turns hastily on his heel away from her, and she grins after him before she returns to carefully lifting the right boxes into the empty room, spending the afternoon carefully organising what they do and don't need to unpack immediately. The new bookshelves are stacked against the wall, something for the two of them to spend an afternoon or two doing, making their house a home. A place they can make their own, safe from everything behind them, sharing a life together.

When she emerges from the spare room, she finds Vision standing at the counters chopping herbs, a striped apron looped around his neck, and drops a kiss on his shoulder before she hops up onto the counter beside him. "I've got everything stacked up safely," she says, and he gives her an approving nod. "I thought that room would be a good place to build the bookshelves. We could start doing that tomorrow?"

"I thought we could try going to visit the neighbours," he says, pulling a cookbook down from the neat shelf between two cabinets and flipping the pages to show her a particular recipe for brownies. "Maybe bake these in the morning then take them around everyone in the afternoon?"

"You're going to love suburbia," she teases, and he blushes slightly, marking the recipe page before sliding it back onto the shelf. "We can explore tomorrow. I think we're the only couple on the street without kids." Something flashes across his face too fast for her to read, and instead he scrapes his carefully shredded herbs into the pot on the stove. "What are you making?"

"Sauce for pasta," he says, frowning at the print-out of the recipe next to the stove. "It has to simmer."

"For how long?" she asks softly, shifting closer.

"Twenty minutes," he says, and she smirks to herself. "I set a timer. I've been looking at the art prints IKEA has for sale, do you want to see them?"

"Honey, don't you think there are more interesting things we could do with twenty minutes?" she asks, looking at him from beneath her lashes and reaching to pull him away from the stove and towards her. He stares at her for a long moment, cheeks glowing, and she reaches to unknot his apron with a quiet, "It's our first night in our own house. I wanna have sex with my fiancé."

He blinks owlishly at her, throat working as he swallows thickly, and she reaches up to kiss him, slow and sweet, pulling away and giving him a silky smile. "I...I don't think I should leave the stove unsupervised," he says hesitantly, and she reaches behind him to turn the burner off. " _Wanda_!"

"I can wait a little longer for dinner," she breathes, and kisses him again. Feels him melt into her, his arms winding around her waist and pulling her close, unwrapping the strings of his apron from around him and lifting it gently over his head when the kiss breaks. "You can be my appetiser."

He shakes his head slightly, and she giggles and pulls his mouth back to hers, hooking her fingers into his belt loops to guide him backwards, past the counters and towards their new couch, the cushions still plush and uncreased. Turning them around to push him down, breaking the kiss and curling her finger beneath his chin to raise his head and kiss her way down his neck, his fingers digging into her sides. "I love you," he breathes, his words hitching as she scrapes her teeth gently over his skin, and she smirks into his shoulder.

"I love you too," she says softly, kissing slowly back up to his lips, one brief touch before she leans their foreheads together, tasting the warmth of the shuddering breath that escapes him as her hands wander down the buttons of his shirt. "In fact," she watches his cheeks glow as she reaches for the zipper of his slacks, "I'm going to show you," his erection pushes into her hand when she unbuttons him, "just how much."

"Wait," he insists as she starts to kiss down his chest, sliding her hands beneath his shirt, tracing her fingertips along the ridges of vibranium to feel him shiver. Glancing up at him, his breathing shallow and unsteady, she watches him swallow thickly before he says, "You don't have to. I mean...I just want to make you feel good. I don't need...that."

"Vizh, trust me, this makes me feel good," she says, and returns to slowly kissing down his chest, his hips arching up against her lips. "I get to see the most powerful being in the  _world_  fall apart because of me. And you know what?"

"What?"

"It really turns me on," she breathes, and he groans softly, sinking back onto the couch cushions as she kisses the plate of vibranium at his hip and slowly pulls his slacks down over his hips, curling her hand around his erection and giving him one last glance up from beneath her lashes as she sinks her mouth around him.

It reminds her of the times before, when even though she was a fugitive on the run she could forget it around Vision. The same hitch in his breath and rock of his hips, the way the world falls away and all that's left is them, his fingers digging into her shoulder, the whisper of her name, and the lopsided grin he gives her when she slides back up his body and smiles into his eyes. "I, um...I missed that," he whispers, blushing, and she grins and kisses him.

"You know all you have to do is ask," she says, and stretches out in his lap. "Can I take a look at the food? You never put enough spice in."

"Will I open some wine?" he asks, and she nods, climbing off him and turning back into the kitchen, lifting the lid from the sauce pot and inhaling the peppery scent.

When they sit down to dinner, in cheap folding chairs that are the temporary solution until they can agree on a design they both like enough to make it permanent in their home, Vision smiles into her eyes across the table and lifts his glass. "To us," he says sweetly, and she beams, her engagement ring clinking softly against the side of her glass as she taps it against his.

"To us," she breathes, and leans across the table to kiss him, fingertips tracing down his cheek.

* * *

Woken by the high-pitched hum of the pipes, Wanda stretches out in bed and reaches for Vision, searching for familiar warmth. But he's gone, though the bed is still warm with his imprint, and she straightens up, unravelling her hair from its braids and combing her fingers through it, straightening her shirt as she slides down from bed and gently swings the door to the bathroom open. He's brushing his teeth, the aromatherapy candle burning slowly down next to the tiny window, and she smiles, curling her arms around him and kissing the back of his shoulder. "Come back to bed," she whispers, feeling him shiver when her breath plays warm over his neck.

"I can't," he mumbles. "I promised Janet I'd watch Maisie for the day and I've got to pick her up at quarter to nine."

"And it's currently ten to eight, babe," she says, and leans up on her tiptoes to kiss slowly down his neck, smirking into his skin when his hand finds her hip and squeezes as her fingers toy with the soft, worn material of his shirt. "Come on. We have time."

"I don't think it's exactly right to show up to collect our neighbour's baby looking like I only just left the bed," he says, and she flickers her eyes up to try to catch his in the mirror. But he's not looking directly at her. Rather, his own face, slowly growing flushed, his eyes dark, her hand against the crimson of his stomach beneath his rucked-up shirt. And there's a long moment of silence before he lets out a shuddering breath and gently tucks his fingers between hers to move her hand away. "Later."

"Is that a promise?" she asks, and he nods, and she grins and darts up to kiss his cheek. "Then get out. I'm gonna shower before I go to meet Tony." He kisses her cheek when he turns around, and she reaches out and slaps his ass as he leaves, smirking at the wide-eyed look he gives her.

When she emerges from the bedroom, having chosen the most professional outfit she could put together for talking to Tony about taking steps back into the superhero game and made sure that none of the high-powered politicians who'll scrutinise the conversation can imply than the way she looks means she doesn't take herself or her job seriously, Vision is sitting on the couch with their next door neighbour's toddler in his lap. A little girl, smiling curiously at him when he jogs her gently on his knees, and Wanda pauses in the doorway to their bedroom, watching him with the baby. The soft light in his eyes, the gentle way he corrects her posture so she won't slip, the smile he gives her when she presents her toy to him. "Honey?" Wanda calls out, and he looks up. "I'm going."

"Maisie, this is Wanda," he says, and the toddler twists around and waves at Wanda, grinning at her. "She's my fiancée. That means we're going to get married."

"I think she's a little young to try and explain the concept of being someone's fiancé to, honey," she says, and he just smiles bashfully, and Wanda leans down to kiss him goodbye. Lingering. Pretending that this doesn't feel like a tiny family portrait, the child in Vision's lap as she kisses him goodbye. Like the dreams she made for herself while her reality was nothing but darkness, the white picket fence and the lazy Sunday mornings and the twins who looked like him.

"Tell Tony he's welcome to come see the place soon," Vision says, jogging Maisie in his lap when she grumbles. "I think I'm almost done sorting the boxes in the spare room."

"I'll tell him," she says, and kisses him again. Briefly, sweet and soft, the sort of casual kisses she treasures, knowing how close they came to not being able to be safe and in love. "Love you."

"Love you too." And she holds the warm sound of that to herself driving to the compound, going through the layers of security, the confusion of returning to the place she once called home, having to greet Tony and Rhodey and Sam, all the memories that cling to the shadows of the compound. But she knows she has a fiancé waiting at home, the man she loves, a quiet, domestic life to go back to. Something she hasn't had in a very long time.

The meeting with Tony and various dull men in suits who are trying to unravel what the Avengers will do next is as boring as she expected. She spends a good thirty minutes of it using her magic under the table to poke at Sam's legs, grinning to herself when he keeps trying to subtly glance down and figure out what's digging into his legs. She much prefers the time she gets to spend with her friends once the suits leave, Rhodey making jokes and Sam insisting on making her coffee and Tony showing her photos of Morgan. He seems so happy, despite the shadows under his eyes, and Morgan is so sweet in the photos, and another twinge of  _something_  spirals through Wanda's chest. A wanting that has her fidgeting with her engagement ring, spinning it around her finger.

When she gets home, she finds Vision in animated conversation with their neighbour, and calls out a, "Hi honey!" as she swings the door closed. Almost annoyed with herself for how ridiculously domestic she sounds, but choosing not to judge herself too harshly. To just enjoy the ability to be happy and content.

"Wanda, you remember Janet, right?" he says, sliding an arm around her when she sits down next to him, and she nods, leaning her head into his shoulder.

Tossing her highlighted hair over one shoulder, Janet smiles and says, "I was just telling Vision that he's surprisingly good with children. You're a lucky girl."

"I know," she says smugly, kissing his cheek and grinning at him blushing. Waiting for Janet to take the hint and leave before she kisses him properly, tracing her tongue along his bottom lip before she pulls away with a sunny smile. "How was your day?"

"I, um...fine," he says, dazed, and she giggles, smoothing her skirt when she stands up and crosses to open the fridge and survey the contents. "Oh, I haven't had time to go to the grocery store. We could order in?"

"Sounds good," she says, grabbing the bottle of orange juice to take back to the couch with her. Turning to look at him, and seeing the cloudiness in his eyes, the way he's fidgeting with his fingers like he always does when he has something difficult to say. "Vizh? Are you okay?"

"I just..." He trails off, and glances up at her, his expression all nerves. "Wanda, I...I want a baby." She blinks at him for a second, and he breaks eye contact and keeps talking, the words stumbling over each other. "I just...I see everyone in this neighbourhood with their children and I want that and I want that with you, I want us to be married and have a family and...I just...I see children and I think about having a child with you."

Clenching her fingers around the hem of her skirt, she takes a deep breath in and lets it rush out of her before she says, "Vizh, I...that's a really big step. And we don't know if...we  _can_  conceive."

"We can get tested," he says, and she can see in his eyes that he's been thinking about this, that it's something he  _wants_ , and she can't help thinking about the private dream she made for herself, even though it wasn't real. The false memories of seeing the man she loves cradle their baby. "I...since we bought the house, it's all I can think about. I just...I wanted to spend my life with you, so I proposed. And I want that life to have children in it." He looks up at her, and his face falls. "Is this a moot point? Do you not want children?"

"No, Vizh, I want kids!" she insists, reaching for his hand, squeezing until he looks up to meet her eyes. "I want kids, and I want you to be their father."

" _Really_?" He perks up, eyes bright, and she shakes her head fondly, dropping a soft kiss on the back of his hand.

"I wouldn't have said yes to marrying you if I couldn't picture you being the father of my children," she says, and he grins in that way he always does when he can believe what they have is real. "Just...should we get married before we start trying?"

"If that's important to you," he says solemnly. "But I...I want to be your husband. But I also know I'll be with you for the rest of my life. It doesn't matter to me when our wedding actually is."

"So...can we officially say we're trying to get pregnant?" she asks softly, and he grins and leans across the couch to kiss her.

* * *

Finishing tying her hair up into a bun, ignoring the insistent glaring notification from her phone urging her to input today's data for tracking her fertility, Wanda finds Vision reading yet another article about conception in the kitchen, bent over the counters with his laptop open in front of him, frowning. "You know you're just torturing yourself doing that," she says, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "Vizh? Stop reading it."

"But it's been six months," he says fretfully, staring at the page. "And-"

"And the doctor says there's no need to go for more tests and get overly worried until we've been trying for a year with no results," she says, and he hangs his head, exiting out of the page. "We've been told we're both fertile. We have sex like clockwork. It's just a waiting game."

"Clockwork?" he asks, and glances at her, hurt blooming dark in his eyes. "Is that how you feel? Is it...not enjoyable?"

"You're right there every time you make me come, honey," she says sweetly, and he flushes. "I just..." She sighs, pushes his laptop aside, and turns him around to slide him back against the counter, his fingers curled around the edge of the marble and his eyes darkening with lust. "I miss what it was like before. And it's not that I miss barely getting to see you and not even being able to talk most nights. I just miss...being spontaneous." She realises that her hands are wandering as she speaks, but there's no protest in Vision's eyes as her fingers slide down his chest. "I miss when we couldn't keep our hands off each other. When we left places early to go back to the hotel. Now we have to be so careful when we have sex and how we do it. I miss dragging you behind some bushes and ripping your clothes off."

" _Wanda_ ," he hisses, eyes darting as if someone is going to overhear them, his breath hitching and his eyes fluttering closed as her hands curve over his ass and squeeze. "What...what else do you miss?"

"I miss when we...spiced it up," she says softly, just to see his reaction, to watch the flush grow in his cheeks at the same memories that are spiralling through her mind. His nails scratching at the table she bent him over, the look in his eyes when she'd crawl on top of him with a smile, his pleading when she had him blindfolded and handcuffed and teased him for what felt like hours, on top of him and whispering in his ear until he pleaded for her. "That box under the bed hasn't been used in so long. You never beg anymore."

"Please kiss me," he breathes, and she grins, leaning up to capture his lips in a kiss he instantly turns passionate, cradling her face between his hands and groaning softly against her mouth when she squeezes at his ass again. " _Wanda_."

Breaking the kiss, looking up at him, she softly asks, "What would you say if I asked you to go and bend over our bed for me right now?" And his answer is a low groan and kissing her again, his breath hitching and jumping when she unbuckles his belt and slips her fingertips beneath his waistband, her fingers eagerly exploring, remembering all the times she would plaster herself against his back and fuck him slowly, make him call out her name.

They're jerked away from each other by knocking on the door, and Janet calling out, "Hello? Remember we agreed we'd walk down to Doug and Sarah's together!" And Vision slides out from between Wanda and the counter, leaving her to lean against it in frustration for a second before she pins a sunny smile on her face and turns to face their neighbour. At least Maisie is on Janet's hip, reaching out an eager hand for Vision when he gets close enough, and Wanda gets to have her wistful moment watching her fiancé smiling at the toddler, her hand straying to her stomach. Imagining the day when they can be the ones telling the neighbourhood they're expecting, when there will be a baby in her belly to love, their son or daughter.

Though she doesn't plan on ever being the type of person to host the neighbourhood barbecues. Maybe Vision would enjoy the hosting, but she doesn't. Even if their children are the cutest to ever be born, she won't be hosting anyone for longer than an hour or two if she wasn't friends with them before moving to suburbia. She can hear Chris, Janet's husband, talking far too loudly about sports with someone, and barely manages to hold in a dramatic roll of her eyes.

At least Vision is happy. He goes to play with the group of children, and she smiles watching him with them. None of them are scared of him, leaping at him when he gets close, dragging him into their games, and she watches him helping Maisie up the climbing frame with a softness warming her smile. She can't help picturing him with their baby, the little boy she's been picturing, with his blue eyes, helping their son swing across the monkey bars.

She lets the gossiping wash over her, dodges the questions from some people about what Tony Stark is up to or whether she's going back into the field and what her fiancé thinks of her going back into the field while he's staying in the house alone, picking at the frankly lacklustre salad. Until Kim narrows her eyes at her when she goes back for another glass of lemonade, leaning against the table between them. "You're trying to get pregnant," she says. It's not even a question, but a flat statement that makes Wanda clench her fingers a little tighter around her glass.

"What makes you say that?" she asks, and Kim gives her a smug smile.

"You're not drinking wine, you're not drinking coffee, you're leaving the red meat alone in favour of salad, and I can see the folic acid supplements in your purse," she says sweetly, and Wanda flushes slightly, pushing the packet beneath her keys. "Do you wanna talk about it? We've all got kids."

"No thanks, we've got a fertility specialist to talk to," she says as politely as she can, and pretends not to be happy at the way Kim's mouth thins in disapproval.

"And you really think that your fiancé is going to be a good father?" Sarah asks, arching a perfectly-plucked eyebrow, and Wanda bristles indignantly. "I mean...I don't mean anything by it, but he is a little  _strange_."

"He loves me, he wants a baby, and that's enough for me," Wanda says shortly. "Just look at him with the kids. They're not scared of him."

"He is good with Maisie," Janet muses. "But you two are just...awfully young to have a baby. You're not even married yet. How old are you?"

"Old enough to make my own decisions about having a baby with the man I've promised to marry," she says, and glances at Vision. Hanging at the edges of the party, drooping, and she crosses the grass and links her arm through his. "You okay?"

"I...I think I'm going home," he says, and she blinks at him in surprise. She's usually the one who wants to leave first, while he thrives on talking to their neighbours, being charming, enjoying the suburban life they chose. "You can stay. I'll just probably take a shower and read. Maybe call Tony and see how Morgan is."

"Vizh...what's wrong?" she asks, but he won't look at her. He kisses the top of her head, but it's only briefly, and then walks out of the garden, hardly pausing when one of the children runs up to him, screeching at him to blow on the dandelion they found and make a wish.

When Wanda moves closer to them, crouching down, the boy - who she'd guess is around five or six - snatches it away from her and says, "No! It's for Vision! It's his wish!"

"I'm going to marry him, can I have his wish just this once?" she asks. The boy gives her a suspicious look, then holds out the dandelion and lets her blow the seeds away in a shower of grey. "Thank you."

"What'd you wish for?" he asks, clutching tightly at the empty green stalk.

"I can't tell you, it won't come true," she says, and he pouts fiercely. "Wishes are very special things. You should never tell anyone what you wish for."

He stares at her, then runs back to his friends, and she just smiles and straightens up, leaving the garden behind. Going home to find out what happened to take Vision from playing with the children to hovering morosely at the edge of the party, what sent him from happy to quiet and sad so quickly. Fully prepared to spend hours arguing with whoever it was that hurt him.

When she gets home, the first thing she hears is the shower running, and she goes to the bedroom to wait, letting her hair loose and unbuckling her wedges, shoving them under the bed with all her other shoes and waiting cross-legged for him to emerge from the bathroom. He does in a cloud of sweet-scented steam, a towel around his waist, and starts when he sees her. "I thought you'd stay at the party," he says, and she just narrows her eyes at him.

"I won't stay anywhere when I can tell you're upset," she says, and he hangs his head, opening the closet door to look for something to wear. She can see herself reflected in the mirror, the concern on her face, and asks, "What happened?"

"Nothing," he answers immediately, and she shakes her head. "I just...wanted to leave."

"That's bullshit, Vizh, you like those parties a lot more than I do, you love playing with the kids and talking about interior decorating," she says sharply. "Tell me what happened so I know whose ass to kick."

"It was nothing, I'm overreacting-"

"Babe, why don't you let me help you judge whether or not you're overreacting?"

She watches his shoulders shudder, and then he turns to face her, clutching fretfully at his towel, and his face is crumpling into tears, and she darts to cup his face, swiping the tears away as soon as they fall. "I just...somehow they figured out that we're trying for a baby, I didn't tell them, I know we agreed not to talk about it yet," he says through a swell of emotion, and she suppresses the sharp spike of guilt that it was because of her behaviour they put it together. "And I heard them...joking. Saying that they think you're too good for me and it's smart of me to get you pregnant because then you can't leave and...and deny a baby their father and...we'll have to get married then it's an...insurance policy."

"How  _dare_  they," she snarls, and he draws back, dabbing at his eyes. "Vizh, you can't listen to a word they say. In what  _universe_  am I too good for you? Why would they  _say_  that?"

"I don't know, because...you're you and you're beautiful and wonderful and brave and I'm just...me," he says, sniffing softly, and she shakes her head, pulling him close.

" _You_  are beautiful and wonderful and brave," she insists. "You're the most amazing person I have ever met. I love you more than I could ever love anyone. You're smart and sweet and sexy and I don't care if it takes six months or six years, I want to have a family with you. This is the life I want."

"But...but you said you miss what we were like before," he says morosely. "When we were all...spontaneous."

"Sweetie, we can recapture that magic any time we want," she says softly. "Just because we're homeowners now and we're getting married and we're planning to have a baby doesn't mean we have to leave our having sex on the beach in the middle of the night days behind."

"Do you think...we could do something now?" he asks, all shy and sweet, and she smiles slowly. "I just...I miss those days too. I miss how...close I felt to you when we would...um..." He flushes, and whispers as if anyone could overhear them, "When we tried  _pegging_."

"The box is still under the bed, honey," she says. "All you ever have to do is ask."

" _Please_." And she grins, pulling her dress over her head and pulling him into an eager kiss, languidly draping an arm around his neck and unwrapping the towel from around his hips, pushing her body into his and feeling the first hitch in his breath, his fingertips digging into her back.

"You know we'll have to go slow," she says breathlessly, her breath roughening as he kisses down her neck and unclasps her bra. "We haven't done this in...almost a year. I don't wanna hurt you."

"You won't," he insists. "You always make it so good."

"Get on the bed, hands and knees," she says, and he scrambles to obey her. Then an idea occurs to her, and she says, "Face the closet."

Bending down to pull the box out from beneath the bed, going through the motions of strapping herself into her harness that bring back so many memories, still feel familiar, she glances up at Vision waiting for her. So beautiful in the soft light, the shine of the vibranium patterning his skin, and when she climbs onto the bed she leans down to slowly kiss a trail down his spine, feeling him shuddering beneath her. "You're so beautiful," she whispers against his shoulder, listening to the eager hitch in his breath when she opens the lube. "I love you so much. You know that, right?"

"I know," he breathes, and she lets her hand creep over the dip of his spine. " _Wanda_ , you have to... _please_."

"Don't think about anything except me," she says, and he nods. "Nothing except us. I just want to make you feel good. I want to hear you say my name."

As she pushes the first finger into him, he groans her name and arches back into her, and she kisses the back of his neck, cupping her free hand over his hip. Opening him up slowly, trembling with the anticipation of getting to do this again, to focus so completely on him, set her own pleasure aside and watch him come apart in a shuddering rush. Soothing him with soft kisses scattered over his shoulders, smiling at his groan of, " _Faster_."

"I have to be gentle, Vizh, I don't wanna hurt you," she says, and carefully angles herself to turn his face to hers and kiss him gently. "Be patient and I promise I'll make you scream."

He groans, half frustrated and half aroused, and she returns to slowly easing a third finger into him, and he tangles their hands together. "I love you," he breathes, and she grins.

"Are you only saying that because I've currently got three fingers inside you?" she teases, and he moans and bucks back against her. "Do you think you're ready?"

"Yes please," he insists, and she smirks, manoeuvring herself into the right position. "Wanda...will you do it hard?"

"Do what hard, sweetheart?" she asks, and he glances back at her, his eyes falling immediately to where the dildo is strapped to her.

"Fuck me," he whispers, and she grins and pushes slowly into him, watching his fingers curl into fists and the moan he lets out when she's fully inside him. "Oh...oh  _fuck_ ,  _Wanda_."

"Did you miss this?" she asks, and he nods. "Vizh? Look up." And she watches him make eye contact with himself in the mirror, his pupils swollen dark with arousal, seeing her behind him and her hand creeping from his hip to wrap around his erection, and he looks away. "No. Look at yourself, Vizh. Look how beautiful you are."

She leans to gently lift his chin, and watches him. Looking at himself in fascination, the way he bucks back against her when she twists her hand around him, and she leans forward to kiss his shoulder and breathe, "Do you have any idea how sexy you look like this? You turn me on so much. You're so good, so perfect, and you're so beautiful. No one else ever gets to see you like this. I'm the only one who gets to fuck you this good."

" _Yes_." He moves harder against her, tugs on her hand, and groans, " _Faster_."

"There was a time when you teased me for always wanting it hard and fast," she says, and he moans her name and bucks back against her. And she does what he asks, fucks him harder, and he cries out, clenching his hands into the blankets. "Keep looking at the mirror. I want you to see yourself come."

" _Fuck_ ," he grits out, moving against her harder, and the thought flashes through her mind of what it would be like to have him ride her. To watch him bounce in her lap, to be able to touch him everywhere she wants, to see him throw his head back and come. She files that away for another day, moves faster, and he screams her name and comes, shuddering and shuddering through it, and she leans forward to kiss down his back gently, soothing as he comes down.

When she gently pulls out, wincing at his hiss of discomfort, and unbuckles himself, she grabs a towel from the nightstand drawer to wrap the strap-on in before she tosses it to the floor, and the packet of wet wipes to clean both of them up. "We...we'll have to change the sheets," he says faintly, and she giggles.

"No compliment after I just fucked your brains out?" she teases, and he rolls onto his back and gives her a dazed smile. "I missed that. A lot."

"But it...it won't help you get pregnant," he says, and she smiles, sliding on top of him.

"Actually, I read that the longer you have to wait to come, the higher the likelihood of fertilisation," she says. "So maybe if next time I get the vibrator out too, and I do that until we're both right on the edge, then I make you wait to come while I ride you  _slowly_ , that'll make it happen."

" _Fuck_ , I love you," he breathes, and pulls her down into a kiss, and she grins against his mouth.

* * *

**From: Vizh <3**

**I'm at the store looking at paint swatches. Do we want to paint the nursery yellow or green? What shade?**

**To: Vizh <3**

**You know we can go to the store together to do that, right? And that I'm not pregnant yet?**

**From: Vizh <3**

**I know but...you're away for the rest of the week and I just...I got excited.**

**To: Vizh <3**

**Did you buy baby furniture?**

**From: Vizh <3**

**Maybe...**

**To: Vizh <3**

**Did you buy anything else?**

**From: Vizh <3**

**A new blindfold?**

**To: Vizh <3**

**I'll allow it ;)**

Letting herself into the house, Wanda smiles at the familiar scent of Vision's lavender diffusers enveloping her, creeping around to peer into the spare room he's been setting up in the hopes of having a baby to sleep there soon. The walls are still the neutral white they were when they moved in, but he's started to disassemble the bookshelves and replace them with art, and she smiles to see it. Then remembers what she has planned, and goes to the bedroom to shower and change and get what she needs to hide under the couch, grinning to herself.

When the door swings open, she turns around and calls a sweet, "I'm home!" Swallowing her laughter at the sound of Vision dropping something, she turns around to beam at him bolting into the room, leaning over the back of the couch to kiss her.

"I thought you weren't coming home until Sunday!" he exclaims in delight, then his expression fades into concern. "Why are you home early? Are you hurt?"

"No, just turned out we didn't actually need five people for the mission, and I wanted to come home to my sexy fiancé," she says, and he grins and ducks his head bashfully. "And there's something that I could not stop thinking about on the flight home."

"What?" he asks. "Paint swatches? Going furniture shopping?"

"Think a little more me fucking you," she says, and he blushes. "Pants off, babe."

He obeys her so quickly he almost stumbles, climbing over the back of the couch to kiss her, tugging at the buttons of her shirt and unwrapping it from around her, his hands curving over her breasts and making her arch into him. "I missed you," he says softly, and she smiles into the next kiss.

When they're done undressing, she grabs the bottle of lube she brought through from their stash in the nightstand and slips a finger into him, working him open and kissing him through his eager moans and pleas for more, and thrills at his whimper when she pulls away. "There's something new I wanna try," she says, and he nods, eyes glazed with lust. "Stand up." Despite the confusion that flits across his face, he obeys her, and she clips the harness shut and gives him a hot glance from beneath her lashes as she says, "Turn around."

" _Oh_." And in that breath of a sound, she smiles, reaching out to trace her hands down his back, over his ass, squeezing and watching him shudder.

"I have had a long few days away," she says slowly, almost a purr. "And I want to watch my unbelievably sexy fiancé fuck himself on my cock."

" _Wanda_!" he exclaims, and she just smiles and links their fingers together, coaxing him backwards and watching the way he throws his head back as he sinks onto her.

It's everything she's missed for the last few days, the balance they've managed to find between sex carefully choreographed to give them the best chance of getting pregnant and something a little more spontaneous. Him slipping into the shower with her and dropping to his knees, sleepy sex in the middle of the night when she woke up from an oddly realistic sex dream, his hands creeping up the insides of her thighs between sips of morning coffee. Their life together reaching the balance she wanted, the memories they're making perfect. Not that she'd ever tell anyone how it feels to watch Vision move in her lap, to kiss at his shoulders and revel in how loudly he's moaning, but it's everything she wanted. The opportunity to freely, unashamedly be with the man she loves.

He comes in a rush, crying out her name, and slides onto the floor, eyes gleaming. Unbuckling the harness and tossing it aside, kissing his way up the insides of her thighs until his tongue flicks hard over her clit and she grabs at his shoulder, arching into his mouth and moaning his name. Digging her heels into his back to keep him close, nails scratching over the smooth upholstery of the couch, coming so hard she sees only flashes of white for a few seconds before she comes back to herself.

After they've cleaned up, Vision pulls his slacks back over his hips and moves to make them both a cup of tea, and she leans back against the arm of the couch, shirt held together by only one button. "You know, we won't be able to keep having sex all over the house for much longer," she says lightly, and he turns to give her a wide-eyed look.

"Has someone seen us?" he asks, frantic. "I told you we shouldn't have had sex in the garden. You shouldn't be so...distracting."

"And I told  _you_  to be quiet," she says, and he flushes. "No, no one saw us. It's just that...I'm pregnant."

There's a crash as he drops one of the mugs into the sink, and he's across the room so fast she could've sworn he flew, staring at her. "Really?" he asks, and she nods, eyes prickling with absurd tears. "Are you sure? Is that why you're home early?"

She nods, trying to swallow around the hard lump in her throat. "I had to get out of the van and throw up four times on a cover stakeout, Rhodey made me go to the hospital, and they told me," she says, and he collapses onto the couch next to her, his face in his hands. "I mean, I skipped a period before I left, but I didn't want to...get my hopes up. But it's confirmed. I'm pregnant."

He looks up at her, his face streaked in tears, and his voice is high-pitched, almost a squeak, when he asks, "We're having a  _baby_?" He swipes ineffectually at the tears spilling over, and says, "But...what we just did...won't it hurt you?"

"I plan on keeping up our sex life until I get too big to keep going or too tired, whichever comes first," she says, and leans across to squeeze his hand at the next splintered sob. "Are you okay? Are you happy?"

"Yes, yes, oh my goodness, of  _course_  I'm happy!" he says, and leans across to kiss her. His hand cupping over her stomach, even though there's nothing there yet to indicate the baby growing inside her, and when he pulls away she's crying too, helpless. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," she whispers around a sob, and he kisses her again. "You're gonna be the most amazing dad."

"You're going to be the best mom," he breathes, and she wraps her arms around him as he kisses her. Content to lie in her fiancé's arms, his hand cupped over her as-of-yet non-existent baby bump, his tears wet against her skin.

 


End file.
